


Dreamer

by MMonster



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Romance, Romantic Soulmates, Soul Bond, Soulmarks, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 07:44:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14996117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMonster/pseuds/MMonster
Summary: Phil always dreamed of finding his soulmate. He used to make up stories about who they would be, what they would look like, what their words would be. So he waited for his mark to appear. But it didn't, not until after his father died and left his mother a shell of herself, not until he was 24 years old and an agent of SHIELD, not until it already felt like it was too late. But then it did.Phil had no idea what to do with it.





	Dreamer

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like there aren't enough Soulmark fics of these two. So I wrote one.
> 
> Enjoy!

Phil Coulson was a strange, but joyful child. He loved studying, specially history. He learned to cook before he learned how to ride a bike without wheels. He spent whole afternoons with his father, fixing up old cars. He dressed like a small old man, his mother loved it, his father thought he looked respectful, he got teased for it but never really cared. He also loved it. He had an unerringly accurate moral compass that got him into trouble often, even if he had no issue following authority.

As any kid, he also played and he dreamed and he ran around and then he dreamed some more. In this world, one of the first dreams any child has is to get their words. Find their soulmate. Phil was no different. He used to make up stories about who they would be, what they would say to each other, what his soulmate would look like, if they would be a he or a she, if it would be more than one, romantic or platonic. He also dreamed of other things. Of being a hero, like Captain America. Of being good and making a difference and saving people.

His mother thought he was a sweet, creative little boy, and would often entertain his fantasies. She explained to him that he could get his mark at any age, and to not worry, because having a younger soulmate was perfectly normal. She was 14 years younger than his father, after all, and they were soulmates.

His father also listened to him, but his reassurances and comments were more contained, as was his nature. Phil didn't mind. The relationship his parents had was almost idyllic in its perfection. They weren't much alike, except where it really mattered, but they understood one another on a level Phil thought even the other matched pairs he knew didn't. He dreamed about having the same, someday. Wished his mark or marks to appear with all his might, even if he heeded his mother's words that he had plenty of time. He checked himself in the mirror every single day, just in case one appeared while he was asleep.

But then, his father died.

It was sudden, and it crushed his mother in a way Phil had never seen before and has rarely seen since. He found his shelter by studying it, what happened when one soulmate died. Some scientists believed it creates an unsolvable chemical unbalance that leads to permanent unhappiness, depression, and eventually suicide. Others believed that the suffering can be overcome, if there is multiple soulmates and the remaining ones can lean on each other. A few even thought full recovery can be achieved, even if the remaining one is alone, if their life is sufficiently filled by loved ones and occupations they enjoy. They all agreed, however, that the effects were devastating, and even in recovery cases, left deep, permanent marks.

Eventually, his mother got well enough to keep going. Work, take care of him, even smile occasionally. But she never really recovered. She glided through life as a ghost, present but not fully there. He knew it was for his sake that she was even trying. That did help, that she tried. He did too. Phil tried so hard to fill the hole left by his father, even when his own heart was gaping with the loss.

He was always smart and responsible but he became even more so. He started working as soon as he could, to help pay the bills. He did well in school. He cleaned and cooked for his mother when she was too weak to do so.

He also stopped talking about soulmates. With time, he thought about it less and less, it didn't seem as important or as desirable. Besides, by the time he was 15, he knew it would be a long time before he met them, and that every year that went by meant a bigger chance that he didn't have any in the first place. Maybe it was for the best. He still checked, occasionally.

When he got into college, his mother was so happy she was herself again, for a moment. Her embrace was warm for the first time since he was little. There were tears of joy in her eyes. He went away heavy with how much he had missed her, even if she was there, right next to him, the whole time.

She died within the first year he was away. Phil was the only one at the funeral and, for the first time in his life, he was glad he had no marks. Maybe he would never know the happiness his parents knew together. But that meant he would also never know the heartbreak he witnessed his mother go thorough. Maybe some people are meant to be happy and others are meant to protect happiness. He didn't need a soulmate to be a hero.

When Nick Fury offered him a job at SHIELD, it felt like destiny.

The years went by. Phil grew and changed. Fell in love, made mistakes, saved lives. Every few months or so, he would check himself for marks. He knew, logically, that he would feel if one appeared. But he was always, at the same time, strangely sad and relieved when he saw there were none.

The real turn for him came when he hit twenty-one, became an adult with no marks. It meant any romantic soulmate he had would be outrageously younger than him. It would take decades for him to meet them. After that, he hoped for a platonic soulmate or no soulmate at all. He stopped checking.

A few years later, he was in the middle of a firefight when a strong pain in his chest made him give his position away by screaming and dropping to the ground. Nick pulled his ass out of the fire himself when Phil managed to get shot three times and hurt too much to move. The first thing Phil did when he woke up in medical six days later was pull down the gown he wore and ask for a mirror.

 _'Hey, what up?'_ Was written in lean, messy, but distinctly feminine letters on his chest, right over his heart. It was tinted romantic gold. Phil put the mirror down after a few long minutes looking at it. Pushed the morphine button. He feel asleep trying not to think too much about the fact that he had a romantic soulmate, probably female, who was a tiny, six days-old newborn somewhere in the world.

He spent the next 18 years trying not to think too much about it, and failing. Nick was the only one who knew about his mark. SHIELD kept record of its agents marks, but it was not obligatory to divulge, and Phil chose not to have it on record. He had seen too many fake encounters engendered by hackers to trust the system with that information, even SHIELD's. Eventually, Barton and Romanoff knew also. And Melinda, of course. But that was it. And Phil didn't talk about it much, or at all.

He thought about it, about her, however, almost everyday. Every time he looked himself in the mirror before or after a shower. When he was with other people, romantically. When he saw children her age and felt particularly old and creepy. Specially on the her birthday, it would always struck him. When she was one, he took a rare day off and drank himself stupid. He ended up on Melinda's couch pouring his heart out to her about how he didn't even want a soulmate and his was a baby and he didn't know what to do with that.

Melinda told him soulmarks are smart. Not that they think, or anything, but that if Phil is matched to this girl, he will meet her when he meets her and it will be right. There is no use worrying himself sick that one day he will turn around and a child will say his words to him. But both she and him know it could happen, so mostly she just tells him that if it does he will introduce himself, get her name and make sure she is okay before running for the hills until she is 18. Or maybe 21. And to stop whining.

It's the bucket of cold water Phil needed. This girl is his soulmate and there is nothing he, she or anyone can do about it. But he can control how and when and even if their relationship develops. If they meet when she is too young he can keep an eye on her and make sure she is safe from a distance. There are no obligations, no musts. That should have been obvious to someone as intelligent as Phil before, but somehow, it wasn't. But now he has a plan and it's enough to assuage about 50% of his anxiety.

He still takes a day off every year on her birthday, if he can. He's still a bit afraid every time he sees a girl her age. Phil is and has always been great with children, and even in the rare occasion something like that happens, he is great with these girls right after the first words they say aren't his.

He thought it would get easier every year, but it didn't. It was maybe the easiest when she was a child, because he knew there would be no question at all about him keeping his distance. But it gets suddenly harder when she is 15, 16, 17. The older she becomes, the bigger the chance they will meet. But it's still not enough, she is too young, even if by the time she is 18 she is old enough that there would be no legal issues anymore.

After that, every year is a relief. 18 and 42 is bad. 19 and 43 is not much better. He finally feels somewhere close to ready to meet her when she hits 21. He is 45 and it sucks that he will be 50 by the time she is 26, but she is an adult now. The imbalance between them seems to be getting a bit shorter.

She is 23 when he dies. His last conscious thought before fading is that he hopes Loki's scepter didn't harm the mark – even though he knows it did – and that he wishes the girl, his girl, is not alone. But then he comes back and her words are marred by the scar, even if still legible, and tinted slightly blue. The doctors tell him they aren't sure why that is, and that the effect of almost death experiences on soulmarks is not as well studied as it should be. They tell him not to worry and he believes them. He trusts the system.

It's strangely fitting that they meet when she is 24 and he is 48. She is not only an adult now, but has been for a few years. It feels better, feels like maybe Phil could give into it without the guilt choking him. She is the same age he was when he got his mark. She is also exactly half his age, and while that is uncomfortable, it means every year after will be an improvement. But overall, it still feels strange. Phil has made a life for himself, one he enjoys and values. He can barely think about how a soulmate would fit into it, let alone a 24 years-old girl.

And so, while this still feels like the year, it hits him by surprise when it happens. He and Agent Ward are collecting someone he would call 'a person of interest' or maybe even an 'asset'. But Agent Ward would prefer the term 'suspect', so Phil doesn't fight him too much on his methods. Specially not when they open the van's door and the girl - and she does look so young - turns towards him and says:

“Hey, what up?”

He doesn't answer and his heart pounds the whole ride to the bus. He lets Agent Ward handle her, and tells himself it's a coincidence – even if, as common and simple as the words are, it's the first time someone he just met said them to him – and if his mark is burning, it's because of his scar. He goes for professional when she is finally sitting in the interrogation room and the bag is pulled from her head.

“Sorry for the lack of finesse. Agent Ward here has had a little history with your group, The Rising Tide.”

She gapes at him for about two seconds, and it's confirmation enough. She recovers remarkably fast, however, and quips her way into the interrogation. He instantly likes her, he liked her even before he knew she was his, when he was listening to her righteous, naive but well-intentioned podcasts.

He is annoyed at himself when, still in that same day but somehow so much time later, he offers her a position on his team, and he can't convince even himself that it doesn't have a little bit to do with the fact that she is his soulmate. But Phil likes to think he would have done that regardless. Skye is a rebel and he knows she is hiding something. But it's also clear as day that she has her heart in the right place and talents that can be used to save lives. Maybe all she needs is a chance.

He thought she would mention that they are soulmates, but she doesn't. It's a blow and what he was deep down afraid would happen, but he is honest enough to wonder why he himself hasn't said anything. Actually, he knows why, but it doesn't make it any easier. It's not until weeks later, when he finds her hiding out in the SUV after they send Amador on her way, that they touch the subject.

“I see why you like it here.”

“Yeah, it's kinda like my van. Without all the bums trying to break in. I don't miss that.” She is so sincerely joyful as she says it that it tugs at his heart. That she had to go through that. By now, he knows a bit more about her. That she is an orphan, grew up in the system. Her life wasn't easy. It makes him feel guilty and selfish for having spent so much time wishing not to meet her until she was older. Maybe if he had, he could have helped. Could have made sure she had the childhood she, anyone really, deserves.

But despite all of that, here she is. A brilliant woman with a good heart. Despite the uncertainty on what it is that she is hiding, he can't help but feel in awe of how well she turned out, even with such hardships.

“It's more peaceful here. It's also cool knowing that someone has my back.” Their eyes lock and the space gets even smaller. “No matter what.” She slides her hand towards his, where it rests on the seat, and shyly intertwines her fingers with his. She looks vulnerable, but he feels even more. In this moment, however, alone with her, he understands why their bond is tinged gold, and not silver. He squeezes her hand.

“Can I ask you a question?” She says.

“Sure.” He smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring expression.

“When did you get my mark?”

Phil is confused for a second, since he knows he got his mark on her birthday. But then it dawns on him, and it hurts, it hurts him that Skye was deprived of even that tiny bit of information about herself. When she was born.

“The second of July, 1988. In the middle of a firefight, I think it would have been morning here. I got shot three times and had to be carried out. I woke up six days later with three shiny new scars and your words.” He smiles at the memory and so does she.

“Wow, so I'm 24? I always thought I was born in 89. Uh. Hope you like older women.” She waggles her eyebrowns at him and he laughs.

“You do know that I always knew your age.” He says it as a joke, but she must hear or see something on his face, because she slides closer.

“Hey, you are super handsome and all classy in a kinda of totally hot way. You know that, right?” They are shoulder to shoulder now, and Phil can't help but breathe in the scent of her. He gets a little dizzy from that alone.

“Thanks.” They stare at each other in silence. “You are gorgeous.”

He meant it as a reciprocation of her compliment, but it comes out so sincere and reverent that she looks startled before her cheeks get a rosy tint to them.

“You are.” He blushes at his own earnestness, but reinforces it nonetheless, because it's true. It was, shamefully, something he immediately noticed about her, how beautiful she is. It's one thing he has been thinking about for a while.

“Thanks, A. C.” She grins and he knows he is just dorkly smiling back. He decides he doesn't care.

“You know that I meant you shouldn't call me Phil in front of the others, right? It's fine when we are alone.”

Somehow, she is getting closer to him. Her face is only inches away and he can't help but look down at her lip when she bites on it. A habit he has noticed before.

“Okay… Phil.”

She leans a bit forward and he does too and before the action can be computed on his brain, their lips are touching. When they kiss it's slow and sweet at first, but when they find their rhythm it gets passionate fast. Before Phil knows it, he has a lap full of her and is trying his very best to breathe without having to part from her mouth.

Eventually, however, he does, and while he is trying to breathe she is kissing his neck and grinding her hips over his erection. He tries to gently push her away since this is fast, way too fast, even if he is so hard it's slightly painful.

“I will show you mine if you show me yours.” Skye says when she finally pulls her mouth away from him. Phil's brain is already slow, but it screeches to a stop at her words until he realizes she means their marks.

“Uh, sure.”

It is with some trepidation that he starts to unbutton his shirt. His fingers shake and she takes it over as soon as she notices his struggle. He sits there and watches her as she gets to his chest after pushing his undershirt up. He expects disgust, aversion or at least shock, but he sees none of that on her face.

Instead, she looks at his mangled chest, at her words which are deformed by the scar, and her fingers touch it so gently Phil feels himself melt. There is worry and a sort of reverence on her expression at the same time.

“Does it hurt?”

“Sometimes. Did you?”

She studies it a while longer.

“Yes. Wanna tell me how you were dead for five days?”

His jaw drops, it is funny but she doesn't laugh.

“Five days?! They told me it was 8 seconds.” Phil is shocked. He feels betrayed, because while he has known Skye for less than a month he _knows_ her. She isn't lying, there is no reason for her to. But someone is. SHIELD is.

“It was a whole lot more than 8 seconds.” Her voice is uncharacteristically quiet as she speaks. “It was days. My mark was faded and gray for days. It hurt, A. C., lots. I thought it was just one more thing, you know? Lost my parents, of course I would lose my soulmate before even meeting them. But it still hurt.”

“I'm so sorry, Skye.” And he hugs her tight because he doesn't know what else to do.

“It's not your fault. I don't know how you came back and I'm guessing it's classified, but I'm glad you did.” He would tell her he doesn't know either, not how or why, but she doesn't ask.

“Show me yours?” Phil is floundering on the river of the truth about his death, and he grasps at Skye as if she is a lifeline.

She takes her overshirt off and turns around before pulling her shirt up. In her back, his words cover the entire expanse of skin between her shoulder blades. It makes him swallow dry, thinking about the position they will have to assume to complete the romantic bond. When he runs his fingers lightly over the letters, he feels bumps rising on her skin as she shudders.

He looks for a long time, before leaning down to kiss it. She shivers again, as he spreads kisses over every letter. But eventually he pulls back and tugs her shirt down. She turns around to look at him.

He frames her face with his hands, pulls her in for a kiss.

“This won't be easy, Skye.” He says when they finally part for air. “But I want it. I mean, if you want it too. Do you?”

And she must think he is adorable, and not a dork, because she leans down and kisses him some more before breathing out.

“Yeah, A. C., I want this. I want you.”

Phil can't help but think that he did it. What he wanted since he was a child, what he never truly stopped wanting even as he told himself he did. He found her, his girl, his Skye. And now he won't let her go for anything in this world or any other, not for as long as she wants him. He can only hope that is forever. Judging by the way she is moaning into the kiss, however, he knows he is good at least for now.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think, guys? I'm also open to plot ideas for other Cousy stories, if you guys have any good ones. ;)


End file.
